


Inescapably Yours

by TelephoneCableSplicer



Category: South Club (Band), Winner (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Businessmen, Gen, M/M, namsong - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 20:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14172417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TelephoneCableSplicer/pseuds/TelephoneCableSplicer
Summary: "To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves," — Federico García Lorca





	Inescapably Yours

**Author's Note:**

> a quick one because i miss them. =3

  
Charity balls and business functions are not exactly Song Mino's cup of tea. But he _is_ the head of the company's strategic and marketing department — so more often than not; he finds himself attending these upscale events of raising money for awareness, catching both the sponsors and press needed to kick-start any large-scale projects, entertaining the rich and famous to join their business ventures, almost twice every week.

 

Still, don't get him wrong; Song Mino has nothing against the idle chit-chats with the loaded bunch that bore him to death nor had he been sadly dulled by the taste of ridiculously expensive champagnes served to the attendees at these events. He genuinely enjoys the luxury and the class of these social affairs from the bottom of his soft, goatskin, gold-buckled, pair of Louis Vuitton shoes. For the sole reason that his position comes with huge responsibilities and equally heavy paychecks.

 

In fact, underneath the magnificent chandeliers and spotless marble floors of lavish halls; Song Mino excelled at securing new clienteles, _and_ glorifying old business partners — doing his utmost at keeping them interested enough so he can be sure that they will continue to fill his company's pocket for another yearly run.

 

There was no question that the blinding world of the riches is his playground, but then suddenly, out of the blue — a new face came traipsing into his field; and that person had effortlessly made Mino stagger from his stable perch.

 

The newcomer, a man; curiously held his gaze solely on Mino. With a three-piece suit that was cut to perfection and a smile donned to lure victims; the brunet had woo-ed both Mino's unimportant business partners and future potential contracts steadily away.

 

Mino should be furious, he should be _livid_ at the sheer balls the man had for pulling these stunts, but apparently he was not. Because every time he caught the sight of the man, the brunet's professional and intelligent gaze turned _hot_ and meaningful towards Mino instead.

 

That was _intriguing._

 

 

* * *

 

Song Mino had been eyeing the newcomer without meaning to after a while. And if it was not ego-boosting enough; he belatedly noticed that the brunet had been eyeing _him_ since the very first night he had come into the picture.

 

He started to take note of trivial things about the man; the way he stands, always with a little slant to the hips, the downward curve of his eyebrows, the empty piercing holes on both ears, the uneven tones of the skin on his hands; as if trying to cover something up (tattoos maybe, for Mino _did_ have to cover his with a concealer when he had casual meetings to attend at the golf course).

 

Another small thing he took note of, was the fact that the brunet often left the events with different ladies, not caring if the women were younger or older than him; lonely preys in stiletto heels made out of gold and silver. Mino was not surprised, he sometimes does it too; spending the nights with faceless strangers whose husbands were too busy to pay their women any attention. But what _did_ surprise (and bothered) him, was the nights when he saw the brunet leaving with male partners instead.

 

It was _pathetic_ the way it made him feel. He had never shown any interest towards his own sex his entire life, but he seemed to be desiring that unquestionable burning look from the brunet more and more. Once, he had accidentally bumped into the man at a restroom; the subtle cologne he caught a whiff of was delicious to taste, and the owner of the cologne's face was pleasantly exquisite up close.

 

The brunet had roamed his eyes appreciatively up and down Mino's body; he cannot help but to stand straighter, lift his chin up a bit higher — and the brunet's gaze turned sly at his actions. The shivers Mino had felt at that moment was _new_ and ridiculously hot. The brunet patted Mino's chest innocently in apology for bumping into him, but the slide of those long, pale fingers that went down from the front of his immaculate suit to lightly slide against the back of Mino's hand was anything _but_ — the touch lingered, it made his member _twitched._

 

The brunet was a fucking tease.

 

That night, Mino followed a lascivious, married woman home. Her face was round, her lips were red and full, her hair was gloriously long and black. The woman looked _nothing_ like the person in his mind, but Mino had released all his pent-up frustration, ramming into her strongly, almost urgently, with desire filled to the brim. He ought to feel bad for thinking of someone else while they were doing it, but the woman seemed satisfied with their intense sex and Mino's mind was honestly preoccupied with a certain brunet male to even care about anything else.

 

 

* * *

 

It had been weeks, and Mino had been attending those customary events with new suits, better hairstyle, and more charming attitude. It was strange how Mino had started to attend all these important functions _not_ for the sake of his company anymore. His focus was slowly and surely being led astray by a certain someone.

 

He had found himself trying very hard to concentrate on the topic he and a group of older gentlemen were currently discussing at the side of the banquet tables when he felt a tiny bumped behind him. He did not have to look over to know that the brunet was standing close behind him. He _knew_ just from the enticing cologne that lingers in the air.

 

They stood close, back to back; Mino's grip on his champagne flute was tight, he was worried he might accidentally break it. The brunet's presence was clouding his mind. His voice was delightfully airy, light and pleasant to the ears. Mino _should_ listen to the ways the brunet was reeling the group of people he was currently conversing with into sponsoring the brunet's company. Mino _should_ learn the tricks and the white lies the man uses upon Mino's own company's ex-business partners. Yet Mino's mind was only filled with the scent of the familiar cologne, the heat of the man's body so close to him, the lull of his voice, of what he would sound like trapped underneath him, _moaning_ between silken sheets in Mino's pent-house apartment.

 

The brunet was slowly killing him.

 

When the night was over, and the people were gradually leaving; Mino had come across another scene that he was unprepared for. There, at the end of a secluded hallway, was the brunet — pinned so-very willingly against the wall by another older male. Mino recognized the man as one of their current sponsors, a CEO of a mega corporate company that had just gotten married last year.

 

It seemed that the huge rumour of the marriage being contract-based solely to join two business empires together was true; with the fact that the man was busy kissing and biting down the brunet's neck, humping his clothed crotch eagerly against another male whom he had probably met for the first time that night. Mino does not care, he does not even like the man anyway after having to deal with his pompous ass and dumb intellect for five years in a row.

 

But what Mino really cared about was the sudden low growl coming from his own throat and the nails digging into his skin from holding back at punching the man away from _his_ brunet.

 

His person of desire seemed to have caught the sight of Mino himself, and instead of pushing the man away like he ought to, he purposely lifts one leg to wrap around the incompetent, so-called businessman — bringing their bodies closer while staring hotly at Mino.

 

The desire and yearning in the brunet's eyes burned him right into his very core. The subtle gasps, those heavily lidded eyes and rising blush; _all_ of them was directed straight to Song Mino.

 

_"Please."_

 

Mino heard the yearning words. He knew the brunet wants him, could taste the heat of the man's hunger from across the dim hall. Song Mino _wants_ the brunet too. He craves the man with a lust so strong that he was knocked off-guard by it. He took a step back, then another, and when he heard the quiet whimper from the end of the hallway, Mino turned around and left.

 

Song Mino was not ready for the sudden onslaught of confusing emotions that were running wildly in his mind. He drove back home in his expensive sports car in silence, wondering what would happen if one day, he comes back home with the brunet instead.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> • Inspired by [Rose's fanart](https://twitter.com/rsfeviii/status/979400562012602374) at Twitter. Cheers, chingu-ya!  
> • You can also find me there! || [Airvice Twitter](https://twitter.com/_AirVice)


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